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Falling Shadows
Prologue Violetfall crouched at her leader’s paws, looking up at her in adoration. The black she-cat let out a purr as Nettlestar began to gently knead her pelt. “There’s something I need you to do for me.” She meowed quietly. Violetfall’s eyes widened in surprise and her purring stopped abruptly. “Yes, Nettlestar?” She mewed. “Do you remember the mission I gave you?” Her body stiffened with fear. “The, um, mission? Yes.” Nettlestar let out a purr of her own. “Why isn’t it complete?” She asked, tipping her head. Her amber eyes shone in the gloominess of the den, and Violetfall shivered. “I’m trying, I really am. This one happens to be a little harder than usual.” She attempted to hide the anxiety in her voice but she knew she was failing miserably. Nettlestar dug her claws deeper into Violetfall’s pelt and she winced. Her voice was silky as she murmured to the dark she-cat. “Tsk, tsk. That’s not true, is it? We both know you are not as incompetent as you’ve been acting lately. Your utter failure at this mission is a choice, correct?” She began to shake. “N-no, that’s not true.” Suddenly, Nettlestar’s claws pierced Violetfall’s flesh, and she felt a trickle of blood begin to run down her back. “Liar! You’re a liar! Don’t you dare lie to me, Violetfall!” She screamed. Violetfall flattened her ears guiltily as Nettlestar swept on. “You owe me everything you have; Your place in our Clan, your life!” Violetfall was surprised at the fury in her leader’s voice. Nettlestar noticed the fear in her dark green eyes, and attempted to regain her composure. “I’m sorry,” She mewed as she removed her claws from the dark she-cat’s pelt. Though her voice was calm, her body still shook with rage. She felt almost sick with guilt. It was her fault, not Nettlestar’s. She was the one who’d betrayed her clan, her leader. “No, don’t be! I’m so sorry, Nettlestar. I- I’ll complete the mission. Just, please, forgive me!” She cried out, anxious to be back in the good favor of her leader. Nettlestar didn’t speak, merely flicked her tail to dismiss her. Violetfall sprang to her paws and shook her pelt. Quietly, she dipped her head towards her leader, before turning around and stalking towards the opening of the cold, dreary den. Outside, it began to drizzle. “Wait!” Violetfall stiffened in surprise. Slowly, she turned towards Nettlestar’s voice. “Yes?” Nettlestar sat in the middle of her den, her fluffy tail curled neatly around her paws and her amber eyes narrowed. “I want him dead, by whatever means.” Violetfall lowered her head, ears flat. She nodded once, before turning and slipping out of the den silently. “I love you!” Nettlestar called after her, her voice soft and gentle. “I love you too,” she croaked, “I love you so much.” As soon as she had snuck out of camp, she let out a hiss of annoyance. Her pelt was damp from the light rain, and mud began to clump up the tufts of fur in between her paw pads. She knew she had to do this though- how could she deny Nettlestar anything? The cold wind began to pick up speed, and its noise drifted through her ears, as if it were whispering a warning. Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go She lifted her eyes pleadingly to Silverpelt. “I have to!” The whispering of the breeze didn’t stop. It wailed silently at her, begging her to go back go back. She hunched her shoulders and trudged on, her paws sinking into the mud of the marshes. She kept her ears flattened in hopes of blocking out the wind. Before she knew it, the sappy smell of pines diminished and she was walking in ThunderClan territory. She was confident enough in her own skills to not be fearful. Nevertheless, she made sure each paw step she took was silent, and she lurked within the shadows. What a perfect, perfect night for there to be no moon. Her stomach began to twist with uneasiness as she crept deeper into ThunderClan territory. Nettlestar means so much more, Nettlestar means so much more. She willed her jittery nerves to calm down, but her heart wouldn’t stop fluttering. She didn’t want to kill him! A noise up ahead caught her attention, and a familiar scent hung in the air. A ThunderClan tom, oblivious to the fact that someone was watching him, and tonight he was going to die. This wasn’t the first night she’d stalked him, oh no. This had been happening for nearly a moon; It’d been nearly a moon since Nettlestar had given her the order to kill the ThunderClan deputy, since she’d grown so fond of Ashspeckle. And now she was going to kill him. She tried to inhale his scent, to remember it forever. His head poked through the thickly intertwined leaves of a glossy holly bush. Her paws trembled and she willed her body to still. He pulled himself out of the bush gracefully, his nose twitching slightly. Was he hunting?.. or had he scented her…. Violetfall didn’t have time to worry. She pulled herself forward lightly, praying that she wouldn’t step on a twig or particularly crunchy leaf. She stopped right before she could make the leap. Ashspeckle seemed to have found prey. He looked like he was tracking something of his own. Suddenly, his voice rang out, “Hazelwhisker! Are you there?” Violetfall kept her gaze fixed on the ThunderClan tom. She let herself grow cold all over. This wretched cat meant nothing to her. She let her mind drift to Nettlestar, who was waiting for her back in the ShadowClan camp. Calmness spread throughout her body like a ripple on the surface of the lake. Without any hesitation, she sprang, claws extended. They pierced the thick fur of Ashspeckle. He let out a shocked yowl and began to struggle. She felt absolutely nothing as her claws dug into his neck and ripped. Blood poured from his neck and he stumbled. She jumped off his body seconds before it hit the ground, staining the ground around it crimson. The ShadowClan cat sniffed. Thankfully, the overwhelming stench of blood and death hid her own scent. Violetfall lifted a paw and gingerly began to lick at the sticky liquid coating her fur. She expected to feel something, anything. Guilt, pain, fear, anxiety. Instead there was nothing. He ended up being just another kill. She turned, ready to head back to her own Clan. Who knew, Nettlestar might need her. She’d clean herself off though- she’d give her clanmates a heart attack trudging back into the camp with her paws covered in blood. Violetfall slipped into the shadows, eager to get away from the corpse. Meanwhile, the rain began to pour just a little bit harder, and the wind screamed in the distance as if lamenting the death of the ThunderClan deputy. Chapter One It’d been a couple moons since the murder of Ashspeckle and cats were still gossiping about it. Cherrystar had been furious. She’d demanded the cat responsible for this be found, constantly sending cats on patrols and interrogating enemy Clans’ border patrol. Every cat in ThunderClan had sensed her rage and avoided the ginger she-cat like she’d caught green-cough. Unlike her, Hazelwhisker wasn’t angry. He’d been so seemingly sick with grief that he closed himself off completely and seemed apathetic to his Clannmates. They mostly stayed away, but he felt their eyes watching him. Eyes that were tainted with sickly sweet sympathy. He sniffed a mouse absent-mindedly. He wasn’t hungry at all, but he knew his Clannmates were watching him. He couldn’t bear to worry them. He looked to the left. Blossomsplash was already eying him. Quickly, he bit into the prey. The dry flesh tasted bland in his mouth and all he wanted to do was spit it out. He choked down the morsel of flesh before picking up the mouse and walking over to his mother. Hazelwhisker dropped it at her feet. “Here, Blossomsplash,” He mewed cheerfully. The brown and white she-cat narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you hungry?” “Not right now,” he mumbled, shuffling his paws. Blossomsplash’s face softened. “Would you like to take a walk with me, Hazelwhisker? Perhaps you’ll find your appetite if we hunt.” He wanted to say no. He really wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Sighing, he mewed, “Of course. Give me a second and I’ll take this mouse to a hungry kit.” Avoiding her gaze, he picked up his mouse and walked over to the nursery. Two kits tumbled out of the nursery, their fur fluffed up and their eyes as wide as owls. Lilypelt slid out after them and meowed, “Mousekit! Russetkit! Get over here!” Hazelwhisker dipped his head to the silver queen and dropped his mouse. “Do you mind if I give this to your kits?” She looked at him, her eyes growing nearly as wide as her kits. “Oh, Hazelwhisker, hi. Er, not at all.” The air tingled with awkwardness, and Hazelwhisker turned his head away and shut his eyes tightly. After a few seconds, Lilypelt let out a small purr. “I should take the kits inside. It’s a bit chilly. Come along kits, time to eat.” Hazelwhisker listened to their paw steps before walking away. Did all the cats in his clan really think he was that grief stricken? That if they didn’t tread carefully around him, he’d shatter? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he walked away quickly. Blossomsplash was standing at the entrance grooming herself. She looked up for a brief second, then gave her paw one final lick and let out a little mewl of satisfaction. The white and ginger she-cat sprang up. “You ready?” “What about patrols?” His mother rolled her eyes. “I already spoke to Suntoe, he said it’d be fine. Can we go now?” Hazelwhisker gave her a nod before attempting to go through the ThunderClan camp entrance. Briefly, he paused and dipped his head at the light ginger deputy, who blinked at him in return. Blossomsplash flicked her ears in annoyance at the small break. “Can you hurry?” Her tone was laced with exasperation. The she-cat lifted her head, walking out the camp. Suntoe’s whiskers twitched and he purred, “Better hurry. She might claw your ears off if you don’t.” The brown tom flicked the tip of his tail before racing out the camp. It didn’t take him long to catch up to the old she-cat. He slowed down as he neared her side, breathing just a little bit faster than usual. She didn’t seem to notice him, or if she did, just didn’t acknowledge his presence. She continued to walk through the undergrowth of the ThunderClan territory, her son walking silently alongside her. The she-cat stopped abruptly. Hazelwhisker stopped beside her, blinking in confusion. “Aren’t we going hunting?” He asked. Blossomsplash turned to face him. “Listen, Hazelwhisker, I wanted to talk to you.” Of course, she was here to talk about Ashspeckle. He sighed inwardly, before turning his face away. He didn’t want to talk about his grief over the late ThunderClan deputy because honestly, there wasn’t any. Hazelwhisker knew it was sick, but part of him wanted so badly to blame Ashspeckle. The cat had been so loyal to his clan that he’d put it above everything else- his mate, his kits, his relationships. The individuals of the clan never mattered to him, it was the group as a whole. Because of that, his relationship with Ashspeckle was practically non-existent. Hazelwhisker had mourned him a clanmate would, not as a son, and was so ashamed he could hardly turn to face his mother, the same cat who had dumped Ashspeckle because he was so distant. Her voice broke through his thoughts. “Hazelwhisker, look at me.” He turned slowly. Her eyes were unreadable. It was a relief to see someone who wasn’t looking at him with pity. He straightened a little. “Yes, Blossomsplash?” The she-cat inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, as if trying to collect all the words she needed to say. In a rush of breath, all her words tumbled out, “Hazelwhisker, I know you’re mourning your father, but this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been walking around like a dead cat for moons!” Her snappy tone took him by surprise. She swept on. “Your father was loyal to his clan above all things. He loved ThunderClan and served it with every breathe in his body. Don’t you think he’d want you to do the same?” His eyes widened. The gray tom had been so afraid he’d forget his father, that he’d shove him to the back of his mind till the memory of him had all but dwindled to dust. But this, this could be the perfect way to remember him! He’d stop neglecting his clan. Instead, the fire of Ashspeckle’s complete and utter loyalty would burn in Hazelwhisker, and he’d never forget him. His face brightened at the idea and he exclaimed loudly to Blossomsplash, “You’re right! You’re so right!” The she-cat looked confused for a bit, then shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s go hunting now.” Feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he replied, “Good idea, I’m starving! And while we’re at it, let’s bring back some prey for the clan.” He added. Blossomsplash had already wandered of somewhere, probably hunting without him. Alone, Hazelwhisker stuck his nose in the air, trying to find a scent. The musky scent of mouse flooded his nostrils. Hazelwhisker quickly lowered himself into a hunter’s crouch. He crept forward, paw by paw. The mouse is oblivious to its impending death, it merely continues to nibble on a seed. Haunches swaying, he pounces. It squeals and he bites its neck, silencing it forever. Not long after, he catches another one and a squirrel. He pads back to camp, his prey dangling from his jaws. Standing at the camp is his mother, flicking her tail irritably. “Took you long enough,” she meowed, before walking into camp. Hazelwhisker follows. He deposits it on the fresh-kill pile and walks off towards the elder’s den. If he was going to start serving his clan, he might as well start with clearing out some bedding. “Hey, Hazelwhisker!” Suntoe calls. Hazelwhisker looks up with a mrow of surprise. “Could you tag along on a border patrol? Preferably the ShadowClan border patrol?” Hazelwhisker nodded and hurried to catch up to the patrol, which consists of Oakstem, Flowerpaw, and Fernfoot. They walk along, chatting amongst themselves. Flowerpaw, recently apprenticed, sticks close to the side of her mentor. Something brushes against his pelt and he turns in surprise. Standing there is Fernfoot. She’s a pretty little she-cat, with long calico fur and large blue eyes. Hazelwhisker could remember when they had been apprentices. He’d had a huge crush on her, although he’d never admit it now. She smiles. “Hello, Hazelwhisker!” “Hi.” She purrs. “You’re talking!” Her enthusiasm made him grin. “Yeah, I guess I am.” The calico she-cat rubs her face against his own briefly. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” “Y-yeah.” The two cats chat amongst themselves. Oakstem, an older warrior, finally gets annoyed and turns around. “For the love of StarClan, stop flirting! It’s noisy.” Hazelwhisker feels his ear tips heat up, but Fernfoot pads up Oakstem. “Calm down, we’re just having a little fun,” She murmurs in the tom’s ear. He flicked his tail irritably. “This is a patrol. Act like warriors and be quiet.” He lets out a little huff before turning around and walking away from the two, Flowerpaw trailing after him. Fernfoot turns to the gray tom and snorts. “Who does he think he is, our mentor?” Hazelwhisker shuffles his paws. “I, uh, think we should catch up to Oakstem.” His face flushed, he quickly follows after the ThunderClan tom. Fernfoot stands behind him, baffled. She watches his lithe form as he weaves through some particularly dense bushes. “…..Hazelwhisker?” When he doesn’t answer, she pads along after him. *** Violetfall lays at the entrance of Nettlestar’s den, her gaze fixed on her paws. Slowly, she slides her claws out. Claws that she had used to kill Ashspeckle. Claiming to have been feeling a bit under the weather, Nettlestar had sent Violetfall away that morning. Instead, the black she-cat had lain outside the den, listening to her leader’s soft breathing. Her eyes drift from her paws to the entrance of camp. She watches longingly as the deputy quietly assigns patrols for the day- patrols she could never be part of. A group of dark pelted, boastful warriors stream out of camp. Are they hunting or marking borders? A butterfly flies past her nose and she sighs. Would Nettlestar ever stop sleeping? She briefly thinks about taking her own little nap, before shoving the thought away. Her body feels full of energy, full of life. What she really wants is to be part of those patrols. She darts a quick glance at Nettlestar’s den. The entrance lay shrouded in shadows and silence. Surely her leader wouldn’t notice if she left for a heart-beat or two? Nothing but faint snores and the buzz of voices from the cats she considered clannmates sounds in her ears. She slowly rises to her paws, arching her back in a stretch to ease stiffened muscles. The dark she-cat waits a moment before shuffling quietly a mouse-length. Nothing. She was going to get away with this! Ecstatic, she clumsily tries to dart away. “Violetfall!” The she-cat freezes. Nettlestar’s voice is tired, lonely. Violetfall inwardly cringes. Her leader was ill, and here she was, about to abandon her for the sake of trivial things. She felt sick. “Yes?” Nettlestar slides out of her den, her body covered in shadows. “I’m sorry that I’ve neglected you. Would you like to go hunting with me?” Her chest ached with guilt. Nettlestar was here, apologizing. She hadn’t even done anything wrong! Violetfall quickly forced a purr. “Of course!” The two she-cats pad out of the den together, pelts brushing. The ShadowClan leader briefly nods at her deputy, who dips his head low in return. Violetfall keeps her eyes glued on the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. Once they’re a fair distance from camp, the scents of the marshes hit her nose. The dark she-cat’s head is dizzy with all the smells, and she sighs. Nettlestar flicks her ear. “Would you mind catching me a… squirrel?” The she-cat nods quickly. “Of course not!” Violetfall turned tail, heading off towards ThunderClan territory. She knew there’d be squirrels near their border. Behind her, Nettlestar followed without a word. The black she-cat repeatedly glanced over her shoulder to check on Nettlestar. She didn’t seem very sick. The fluffy she-cat took strong strides, her tail held proudly in the air. Eventually, the acrid scent of the Thunderpath hit her. She shook her head in an attempt to get it out of her nose. Nettlestar didn’t seem too bothered. She sat down and cocked her head expectantly. Violetfall scanned the area quickly for any kind of squirrel. Ahead lay the loathsome Thunderpath. A monster raced across its putrid surface and she flinched. Attempting to find her leader’s choice of prey, she began to sniff. The scent of squirrel! The brown creature was squatting at the base of a tree. Its bushy tail twitched, before it scurried away from the pine tree it called home and closer to where the two she-cats were. Violetfall tried to sneak up on it. Her tail brushed against the litter of dead pine needles and she cursed loudly. Meanwhile, the squirrel changed direction, heading towards the Thunderpath. It made short work of crossing the border, and Violetfall hissed. Angrily, she launched herself across the rocky surface. “Come back here!” Nettlestar watched languidly. The squirrel darted up a birch tree. Violetfall looked around wildly in an attempt to find it. In some bushes nearby, a patch of grey caught her eye. It was a cat! From the smell of it, a tom. Her curiosity peaked, she stretched her neck, trying to look closer. He was walking hurriedly through the bushes, a she-cat stumbling noisily behind him. His pelt was gray, with little speckles of white on his legs, which were long and graceful. His body was lithe, and he looked more like a WindClan cat than a ThunderClan cat. That pelt, it was so familiar. The pelt of one of her victims. Victim as in…. Ashspeckle. She backed away, horrified. He was dead! Dead, dead, dead! How could he be here right now? “No, no no no no no,” She murmured, stumbling loudly through the undergrowth. The tom stopped. She didn’t pay attention. Suddenly, he crashed through the bushes, hissing wildly. “What are you doing on my territory?” He demanded, claws extended. The she-cat didn’t answer. Annoyed, the tom approached her, staring with familiar, menacing green eyes. He growled angrily. Violetfall’s fur fluffed up in fear, her eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t want to…. I had to!” The tom froze, confusing lighting his gaze. “What are you talking about?” Her chest ached with regret and pain. Tears began to well in her eyes. “I… I…” The ThunderClan cat’s fur began to lay flat, slowly. His mew was edged with slight concern as asked, “Are you okay?” Wait. Ashspeckle, he was ruthless when it came to his clan. He’d never stop trying to fight her. She blinked, staring at his face. It had a splash of white across the right side, covering his ear and eye. Ashspeckle didn’t have that…. Ashspeckle would never be worried about her….. This wasn’t Ashspeckle. The cat before her took an uncertain step closer. He repeated his question. “Are you okay?” Her body trembled. “… you aren’t Ash-…. who... who are you..” The tom paused. “My name? It’s Hazelwhisker.” Violetfall looked up at him. She said his name slowly, as if testing the word out. “Hazelwhisker.” Behind her, Nettlestar’s body had tensed up. She narrowed her eyes. Hazelwhisker sniffed. “You’re a ShadowClan cat!” Violetfall nodded. He nosed her, almost gently. “Are… are you sick?” He mewed suspiciously. She lifted one paw, then the other. Stared at them each. “No.” The gray tom looked almost uncomfortable. “Well, you’re trespassing on my territory. You have to leave.” Violetfall frowned. She didn’t want to leave. She had enjoyed a conversation with this cat, someone who wasn’t Nettlestar. “O-okay.” She pads slowly to the Thunderpath. When she gets the very edge, a monster speeds by, followed by another and another. She stands patiently, turning her head to stare at Hazelwhisker with large, blue eyes. He remains where he is, glancing everywhere but at her face. Quietly, she asks him, “Do you... do you know Ashspeckle?” He looks up at her in surprise. “He’s my father!” Violetfall’s eyes widen. “I… uh…” She backed away from the edge of the boundary. Looking irritated, Nettlestar springs to her feet, shooting a jealous glare in the tom’s direction. “Violetfall, I’m tired! Take me back to camp!” The black she-cat nods. “O-of course!” Turning back to Hazelwhisker, she mimics what she had seen so many times before and dips her head to him. “It was nice meeting you!” She exclaims, before darting across the Thunderpath. “Uh… bye?” Once she’s safely across the border, she runs to Nettlestar’s side. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a squirrel. Oh, I’m the worst ever!” She wails. Nettlestar licks her gently. “Shh, it’s fine.” She hooks her tail over the black she-cat’s shoulders. “Let’s just get back to camp, okay?” She mews, her voice kind. The two cats walk back to camp together. Chapter Two “I heard that Foxmuzzle is pregnant with Toadwhisker’s kits!” Nettlestar meowed. She gestured over at the gray she-cat, who was lying on her back. Her stomach was particularly large and it wouldn’t be long before she would move to the nursery. Violetfall smiled tentatively. “Well she’s either pregnant or she’s been stealing fresh-kill, again.” Nettlestar erupted into laughter. “You heard about that?” The black she-cat purred and nodded. “I happen to get a bit of stray gossip or two sometimes,” she mewed. “I overheard an elder talking about it. He says when he found her, there were feathers sticking out of her mouth and flying everywhere!” Toadwhisker, a brown tom, had walked over to the pregnant queen. He nosed her pelt gently, and she sprang up with a little mrow and touched her nose to his. Violetfall was surprised by the gentleness in his eyes. Watching them together, she felt a sudden pang in her chest, all though she didn’t know why. “Violetfall? Are you all right?” Nettlestar followed the dark cat’s gaze to the two lovers. Her body stiffened. In an instant, she’d gone from giggling she-cat to cold-hearted leader. “Violetfall, look at me.” “H-huh?” The black she-cat looked at her, blinking. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She hung her head. Nettlestar’s eyes were narrowed. Her ears were hot. They had been talking, having fun, and she had to go and ruin it. Her leader stood up and stretched her back. “I think it was time I got some sleep. Goodbye, Violetfall.” She padded over to her den and slid inside. Violetfall watched. For a second she was angry. Why did Nettlestar have to get so upset all the time? However, the emotion was short-lived. She was ashamed of herself for thinking things like that. Nettlestar was her leader, they were friends! It was Violetfall’s job to care for her! It had been this way forever, and it’d always be. She sighed, before curling up in the shade of the bush she and Nettlestar had been lying under. She was bored. Around her, cats were mingling. She knew she couldn’t join in their conversation. Violetfall felt her gaze drawn the to the pair of mates. Toadwhisker had wound his tail with the she-cat’s, walking with her towards the nursery. An image of the tom she met earlier popped into her head, and she felt her ears go hot again. Her eyes began to water as she thought of what she had learned that day. What he had told her. ‘He’s my father!’ She shivered. No wonder they had looked so similar, minus the splash of white on his face. That tom was the kit of one of her victims. Violetfall tried to push away the painful thought. She settled her head on her paws, bored. The black she-cat wanted someone else to talk to, someone who wasn’t Nettlestar. And yet, all she could think about was the tom. His eyes, his pelt, his voice. He had been worried about her, he’d been concerned about how she felt. Another thought wormed its way into her brain. Nettlestar hadn’t told her to stay in camp. If she really wanted to, she could go and see Hazelwhisker. Of course, Violetfall knew she was supposed to leave camp. She had to stay, but at the same time, she had to see that tom. Having made up her mind, the she-cat managed to sneak out of camp with no one noticing her. * * * In the numerous times she’d snuck into the territory of another Clan, she’d never felt this way before. This was a feeling she couldn’t name. Her fur was spiked and she looked around nervously. For once in her life, she prayed to StarClan that no cat, not even Nettlestar, knew of her whereabouts. The scent line that separated ShadowClan from ThunderClan lay at her paws. Violetfall paused uncertainly. Why was she hesitating?.. Why was she even doing this?! Should she turn back? Her paws itched to carry her across the border. She went to take a step, slowly. This was wrong, this wasn’t normal. All she ever wanted, all she ever needed, was Nettlestar. Violetfall was a loyal warrior- to her clan, to her leader, and to the code, no matter what it demanded of her. The decision to cross this border would shatter everything, she knew it. The careful world she kept around her, the perfect order. In an instant, it would be gone. And what would replace it? What would happen if she chose to walk one more pawstep? What would happen after she made her choice? She could walk away now. She could turn around like nothing had ever happened. She could choose Nettlestar and be happy and be the loyal little warrior her code demanded her to be, Nettlestar demanded her to be. Or… she could see the tom again. Her paw was lifted, poised above the border. Before she could choose, a voice broke through the wall of her thoughts. “Hey!” Violetfall looked up, surprised. Standing a couple fox-tails from the border was Hazelwhisker. His eyes were bright and his pelt was fluffed up slightly. “Hazelwhisker?” The she-cat mewed in shock, “Why are you here?” He frowned at her. “What are you doing, standing there all suspiciously?” He wasn’t happy to see her, not at all. Her tail drooped in disappointment and she felt tears begin to well in her eyes. The frown melted off Hazelwhisker’s face, replaced with worry. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He padded closer to her. “You’re crying!” Violetfall turned away. “No, I’m not. Nothing’s wrong.” The ThunderClan tom walked into her view once more. “Have I been upsetting you? You seemed kind of troubled when we last met too.” After a few moments of silence, his eyes widened and he immediately turned away, ears flat. Violetfall glanced at him. “Hazelwhisker?” He shuffled his paws, embarrassed looking. “I’m uh, sorry if I scared you earlier. Did you think I was going to hurt you?” “What are you talking about?” Hazelwhisker looked at the dark she-cat. “I’ve tried to fight you every time we met. Is that what made you look so upset, did I frighten you?” Violetfall felt offended. “I wasn’t scared.” Hazelwhisker studied her curiously. “Are you an apprentice?” he asked. And the outrage only grew. “Do I look like an apprentice?!” She squawked. Hazelwhisker edged away awkwardly. “Uh, no?” The ShadowClan she-cat let out a small purr. “I’m Violetfall, of ShadowClan.” Hazelwhisker blinked. “I’ve never seen you at a Gathering. Have you been a warrior very long?” “I’m still a younger warrior, yes, but I do not lack in experience.” The tom laughed. “You do know you could have just said no, right?” He was grinning at the she-cat. His eyes were kind and soft, different from Nettlestar’s piercing ones. Her heart was racing, but not with the same kind of fear she felt with her leader. Nettlestar, she decided, was not the only cat worth talking to. Hazelwhisker was staring at the dark she-cat. “O-oh, uh, sure,” she mewed, embarrassed. The tom continued staring, breaking away his gaze at the sound of her voice. “I’m Hazelwhisker, proud warrior of ThunderClan. And, uh, if you were wondering, no, I haven’t been a warrior very long either.” Violetfall cracked a smile. Introductions over, the young ThunderClan warrior circled her, looking her up and down. “How come I’ve never seen you at a Gathering?” She was immediately wary of his question. Normal cats attended the gatherings, but she was different. She had a higher position, something more significant than deputy or medicine cat, or even leader. She belonged to Nettlestar, was her property and her servant and anything else the she-cat might’ve wanted. How could she explain something so special to a cat of an enemy clan? Besides, explaining Violetfall’s unique rank to the curious tom probably would’ve required her to explain how she killed other cats for Nettlestar. How she killed his father. So instead of telling him how she really only associated with her leader and honestly needed no one else, she simply attempted another smile and replied, “I um, get nervous around other cats, and Nettlestar thinks that a Gathering might give me an anxiety attack or something.” Hazelwhisker nodded his understanding. “So, that’s why you looked like a pack of dogs were chasing you when we first met.” Violetfall made a small noise of agreement. He placed one of his paws on her own and meowed, “Well, then I’m sorry for scaring you. Twice.” She felt her paw go warm where he was touching it, along with her ears and face. “I-it’s okay,” she mewed shyly. “No, it’s not. You have anxiety issues and I probably scared the dirt out of you so I should make it up somehow.” The words came out in a rush, and before the tom had reign of his own mouth again he offered, “Let me hunt something for you.” He apologized. He apologized, and he felt bad, and now he was going to hunt her something in retribution and she’d never felt happier. Happy and shocked, but still happy. With Nettlestar, she always did the apologizing. Her leader could have instigated the foulest, darkest mood in Violetfall ever and she never would have found even a trace of guilt. And hunting for the young warrior? Forget it. Violetfall did all the hunting, even if she was horrible at it. So Hazelwhisker doing all this for her gave the dark she-cat an emotion she couldn’t quite understand. A flattered, blushy kind of feeling that made her slightly resentful of the relationship she had with Nettlestar. “Um, sure. Thanks!” He gave a slight nod, before disappearing into his own territory. Violetfall watched his lithe form disappear into the trees. She sank onto her haunches, eyeing the ThunderClan territory. How long did it take to catch a piece of prey? Violetfall mentally chastised herself. After all, she couldn’t even catch Nettlestar a squirrel, much less do it quickly. Nonetheless, she bounced impatiently. Before long, she heard the crunching sound of paws on forest debris. Hazelwhisker was padding towards her. A fluffy squirrel hung limply from his mouth and he gave her an awkward smile around it. Violetfall sprang to her paws. “Welcome back!” She mewed loudly. The tom’s eyes widened and he glanced quickly over his shoulder. He dropped the piece of prey at her paws and said, “Shh, I don’t want anyone to hear you.” The dark she-cat cringed slightly at his words before nodding in agreement. If this was he wanted, she’d do it. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she mewed, “Uh, thanks.” Hazelwhisker’s whiskers twitched. “No, no you don’t need to whisper,” he laughed, “Just don’t yell.” “Oh.” The ThunderClan cat settled down and after a moment’s hesitation, Violetfall crouched down beside him. “You have the first bite,” he offered with a quick grin. She bent down and sunk her teeth into the warm body. Hazelwhisker followed suit, and the before long there was nothing left but a pile of bones a few scraps of fur. “I’ll bury it!” She meowed quickly. Hazelwhisker blinked. “Okay,” he responded. He watched her bury the evidence of the two cat’s meeting. When she was done, Violetfall glanced down at her paws, which were covered in mud. She drew her tongue over them slowly, pulling a face at the taste. The ThunderClan tom laughed again. Suddenly, she looked up. “Hey, can we do this again?” “W-what?” Hazelwhisker was reasonably shocked. Her gaze was once again concentrated on her paws. She mewed shyly, “W-well, I’ve never really done something like this before, and it was nice.” Her mind flashed with the things she wanted to say. I’ve never shared fresh-kill with anyone other than Nettlestar. I’ve never had someone worry about me like that. I’ve never had a friend, not like this. “I like talking to you, it’s nice. I want to be your f-friend, if that’s all right, and I’d like to meet up again some time. I want to do this again.” She paused for a moment and stared hard at the tom’s face. Feeling suddenly flustered the she-cat looked away. “Or, something like that.” He purred. “Sure, if that’s what you want. How about… the Gathering Island?” Violetfall brightened up at his reply, then furrowed her brow. “Where’s that?” “Huh? You don’t know what the Gathering Island is?” “No.” “You’ve never been to a Gathering?!” She frowned. “No, Nettlestar never chooses me to go. I don’t really leave ShadowClan territory very often.” Or the camp much either, she thought. Hazelwhisker thought for a moment before shrugging. “Well, just try asking her. I’ll ask Cherrystar if I can go the next full moon too. How about that?” “Uh, sure!” Seemingly satisfied with her response, he flicked her ear with his tail. “All right then, see you at the next Gathering!” He meowed over his shoulder, turning around to go back to his own territory. “S-see you,” she called after the departing tom. Glancing back one last time, she ran off. She was racing through her territory, pine needles crunching under her paws, and eager to get back to camp so she could talk to Nettlestar. She wanted to go the Gathering. She wanted to see Hazelwhisker. She was going to talk to Hazelwhisker again. The thought filled her to the tips of her ears with bliss. She had a friend! She had talked to someone other than Nettlestar for once and the thought made her bound forward even faster. Quickly, she skidded into camp, surprising whoever was on guarding duty. Blushing slightly, she gave them a rushed apology and attempted to sneak back to where she had been laying. Violetfall peered into the gloomy entrance of the leader’s den. “Nettlestar?” “Where were you?” The dark she-cat whipped around, startled to find Nettlestar herself standing behind her. Her face was twisted into an annoyed scowl. “I was hungry, and when I woke up, you were gone,” She accused, her voice slightly whiny. “I was at the dirt-place. I had to make dirt. Sorry I wasn’t here to get you something to eat.” Her leader flicked her tail-tip. “No real harm, I wasn’t awake very long. Just next time try to stay by my side. It’s your duty, you know.” The she-cat ducked her head sheepishly. “Yes, I know,” she mumbled. “Good, now, let’s go try some battle training.” She stalked off towards the training grounds. Violetfall hurried after her. “Hey, Nettlestar, there’s something I want to talk about first.” The fluffy ShadowClan leader turned around. “What is it?” She asked slowly. Violetfall let the words tumble out. “I want to know if I could attend the next Gathering!” Nettlestar narrowed her eyes. She meowed, suspicious, “You’ve never wanted to go before. What reason would you have for wanting to attend the Gathering now?”Category:Fanfiction Category:In progress